


Whistling in the Night

by mandaree1



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Gen, Magic and Pies, Nighttime walks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-08 05:36:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12248049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandaree1/pseuds/mandaree1
Summary: Lena connects with the Tumblebums, one of the oddest outfits in the Beagle family.





	Whistling in the Night

Summoning shadows ain't what it's cracked up to be. Lena lets her amulet go dormant, ignoring the hot guilt boiling her insides, and finds the softest corner of the amphitheater to sleep. By the time she wakes, it's dark out again. Lena stretches with a satisfied yawn, wondering what Webby would be up to now.

 _Probably grounded_ , her mind supplied almost instantly. She must have some sort of curfew, right? Lena's bill wrinkled at the thought as she looked at her amulet, which sat comfortably in the palm of her hand. That was another thing about family- they always make you live by  _their_  rules. Isn't it better to be by yourself? Sure, it can get lonely, and cold, but at least Lena knew she was in control of her life. She preferred that to the alternative.

Duckburg looks its best at night, when all the streetlights glow and the buildings are bright squares of yellow and white. Lena hadn't gotten much time to appreciate it yesterday, but tonight she meandered through it without purpose, long arms swinging. She crossed streets- sometimes illegally, sometimes not- and swung herself around lamp posts, trying to determine a destination. In the end, she supposed it didn't matter- she could find the docks from the salty-sea smell alone, and from there she could find her hideaway. The chances of her getting lost were fairly high, but the chances of her  _staying that way_  weren't.

Ducks and dogs of all shapes and sizes slipped through the city, looking perpetually exhausted. Most of them were workers who had stayed on past hours, or third-shifters about to sign in, the two demographics torn between just heading off to bed and just waking up. There weren't many children around, save for the odd bawling brat that clearly hadn't enjoyed following whoever to their nightly classes. Lena, very much a teenager, but lacking the height of one, felt a bit out of place, but that was nothing new.

She found herself re-tracing her steps, running her hand along the sides of the buildings she passed. The playground sounded like a nice way to kill some time. And it was open, too, so the chances of a sneak attack were slim. Lena went straight for the monkey bars, grabbing the first with her hands and the second with the crook of her knees. She let herself hang upside down, dangerously close to bonking her head on the step-up. It's not ideal, but it's better than being right side up and having to recognize she just made a deal with her Aunt.

"I'm not  _betraying_  Webby," she told herself, in a tone of voice she hoped didn't sound too much like she was trying to convince herself. "I'm betraying the McDuck family. They're not even  _related_. Calling someone your family doesn't  _make them_  your family." Feeling the blood begin to rush a bit too harshly into the mind, Lena pulled herself through the bars and sat on top of them. Her shirt was both too long and too thin all at once, covering her from the blast of the wind but not the bite. "Which means I'm betraying her friends. That's not much better, is it?"

It's not, she's sure, and thinking too deeply into it won't help. Lena stood on the very edge of the bars and started walking; she hadn't gotten all the way across the last time she tried this- the seesaw had been calling- and she wanted to see if she could do so now.

The seesaw doesn't call when there's only one duck around to use it.

After this is all done, the seesaw probably won't call for a long time.

A low whistling made her freeze, heart sinking. It wasn't a good whistle-  _she_  could do better, and she was more of a snapper- but it was familiar, and not in a good way. The jangling of bells soon followed, along with the sticking sound of stilts. Lena probably should've expected this. In her defense, she'd assumed that Ma Beagle calling the playground "their territory" was in reference to them scouring Duckburg, not as an actual bit of land they resided on. After all, who puts clowns on a children's play area?

Lena whirled around to turn and run, and even managed to get two steps before her shoe slipped, sending her between two bars. Lena grabbed on, feeling the muscles in her arms creak in displeasure. She flipped around with a low grunt, hands slipping and sliding under her weight. The movement has her body creak side to side, and before she can properly get her wits together she's nose to nose to the one with the green mohawk Beagle Boy. In the darkness, he looks that much scarier.

Lena screams in his face. She attempts to drop down, but before she touches dirt she's in the firm grasp of double-face.

"Hey, hey, hey!" she yelps, thinking fast. "You can't take me to Ma this late, can you? I mean, she needs her beauty sleep!" The grip on her midriff tightened. "And, uh... you- y'know what? I take it back. She doesn't need her beauty sleep. She's  _gorgeous!_  But what're your brothers gonna think? Is a hug really worth everyone gettin' up in your grill about being attention hogs?"

The one on stilts whistles, to which the two-faced one responds in kind. The third Tumblebum brother hangs from the monkey bars, much like she had done only a few minutes prior, only she hadn't been smiling like that. At least, she hoped not.

It's with a jingling of his stupid little bells that the one holding her relinquishes half his grip to pat her on the head, his face never once twitching. The stilt hopper jimmies one of his poles up higher so he can attempt to ruffle her feathers with the awkward wooden hand. The third watches, because they wouldn't be themselves if they weren't creepy, or so she guessed.

"Oh," Lena says, caught between suspicion and relief. "I'm... not on your hit list?"

Two-face shakes his head, lifting her up like a lion cub being presented to its kingdom. The stilted brother reached behind himself and brought back a pie, with which he slid down onto the fake hand, promptly chucking it into his face. Dark, mildly disturbing laughter shook all of their shoulders.

"Oh," she repeated. "You, uh... you thought it was funny?"

All three of them nodded.

"Well, thanks." Lena wiggled her sneakers a bit, telling herself just to go with it. "Lemme guess- you guys always wanted to do that, right? Clowns, pies, pies in faces, that type of deal?"

He sets her down without answering. The third brother dropped down from the monkey bars, patting the ground next to him. Lena sat down. He pulled out another pie, handing it over.

"Ooh, snack time?"

He nodded.

Lena ran her thumb over the bottoms of her other fingers, ignoring the urge to just dig in. She hasn't eaten since before meeting Webby. She's hungry. She's always hungry. "You, uh, you got any silverware tucked into your hats, or your pockets, or the portal you guys keep your props in, presumably located in your socks?"

The Beagle boy next to her pulled a knife out of his ear. Lena eyed it a long second, uncertain, but she quickly came to the conclusion that it was better in her hands than his and got to cutting.

Stilts raised a hand to garner their attention, clunking a few feet away. Lena had to squint to see him in the odd light of the playground, but she could just make out his backflip. He guided his silts forward with a particularly proud cackle. She wondered how he was controlling the hands with his feet, but ultimately knew better than to ask questions, blithely clapping along with the other boys. She gave him his piece of pie as a reward.

Next up was two-face, who mimed a fist fight with his other half. Lena got the impression that the painted face was a fairly sensitive guy, with his own ambitions and beliefs, and simply hated to fight his actual face, whom was chomping at a bit from years of pent-up rage and jealousy. The whole thing was complicated and interpretational, but oddly breathtaking, as far as a clown beating himself up went. Finally went the contortionist, who Lena thought might prove that guy who went on and on about matter being unable to be cut down to its smallest form wrong. The shapes he made were unnatural; some tinier than what she thought possible, some larger than she thought his body mass viable, most of which included pretzels.

"You guys are  _awesome_!" Lena decided around a bite of pie. "Ya'll must be really popular around the big top, huh?"

The Tumblebums all seemed to shrink under her words. Stilts flopped down on the monkey bars, gnawing on his pie in a strange circular motion.

Lena swallowed, realizing with dread that she'd hit a nerve. "Oh. I guess, when you're a Beagle Boy, you don't really get the chance to travel 'round with the circus?"

Each one shook their head, two-face's bells jingling. She shoved the rest of her pie crust into her beak, chewed, and swallowed, regretting it almost immediately, as it felt like fire all the way down. Lena stood up and wiped the crumbs off her shirt. "Alright, my turn to show a trick. But this stays between us, alright? I don't want to hear a whistle about it."

Nods all around. Lena took about seven steps away from them, closed her eyes, and took in a deep breath. If this kept them entertained, so be it. The teenager cupped one hand over the other, watching with narrowed eyes as gentle purple light peeked out between her fingers. She lifted her top hand, revealing a lilac ball covered in fire. She found herself laughing as she tossed it from hand to hand. It'd been so long since she done this sort of thing for fun.

The Tumblebums politely clapped, their eyes wide. Two-face whistled to catch her attention and mimed juggling.

"Dunno how," she admitted, then chucked it at him like a baseball. "Here, you try."

The two-faced brother jumped to his feet, frantically passing the ball from hand to hand. It takes her snickering for him to realize it's perfectly safe, just an illusion (of course it is, it's much harder to create real fire), and then he motions for her to toss him more. Lena does so, watching the purple spheres light up the playground. They shine off the metal and plastic, casting them all in an eerie glow as they bob up and down like the heads on wild geese.

Pie in her belly and excess energy currently flying through the air, Lena flopped down against the slide, her eyes drooping. She wasn't quite sure what all this was, but it was still better than the alternative, and she knew to take what she could get. It was high time she started applying that logic to Webby and the McDuck family.

Each of the Tumblebums sends her a farewell, from a whistle to a tipped bell hat to a final pat on the head, and then they leave her alone to rest. Lena thinks that perhaps she just bought her way out of a visit to Ma Beagle with some silly little orbs and a willingness to watch, and files that away for later use.

**Author's Note:**

> This is relying on the idea that Lena is living in the amphitheater, seeing how Magica is either trapped or too far away for regular face-to-face contact, and her dad is probably a raven- unless they messed with his character, or made up a new one- so she's kinda-sorta homeless? And that she has some level of magical abilities. And, knowing me, we'll learn later on that neither of these things are true.
> 
> Lena has only made one appearance so far, and the Tumblebums probably won't pop up after this, but we all know I'm more than willing to make oneshots on minimal data.
> 
> -Mandaree1


End file.
